In Silence
by laurelinwen
Summary: Second (and concluding) part of "The Doctor's Reward," a fix-it where Rose and the Doctor are reunited. To say anymore would be spoilers.
1. Chapter 1: Reunion

Hello everyone, I'm sorry it has been so long between postings - over a year! But now that my novel is complete, I'll be devoting all of my writing to this Fan Fiction. I've missed The Doctor and Rose, and I've missed you all! Please Please review, it's been a while since I've done Doctor Who fic, and need to know that I'm doing a decent job of it. I've got quite a story in store, but need your reviews to help me get along!

**Chapter One: Reunion**

_"My spectre around me night and day  
Like a wild beast guards my way.  
My emanation far within  
Weeps incessantly for my sin..."  
-"My Spectre Around Me,"_by William Blake

_He threaded his fingers through her smaller ones, his eyebrows tilted upward at the touch of their familiar clasp. Time stopped for Rose, yet her heart raced as the Doctor opened his dry, cracked lips:_

"Rose?" he whispered.

12:01am  
2012, February 24th  
Cardiff, England

ROSE TIGHTENED her grip on the Doctor's hand, lifting her gaze to address his demanding stare. Deep pools of brown spattered with flecks of green searched her eyes, anxiously awaiting her answer. She held the contact, blinking rapidly against remnants of unshed tears and running her thumb across his.

"'S me," she quietly reassured him, her eyes shining. A corner of his mouth quirked upward, slowly mirrored by the other side and growing until the dark hollows beneath his eyes were hidden. The Doctor's slow smile radiated pure wonder, and nearly took her breath away. She could feel her heart racing at their touch, her pulse quickening and rapidly flooding warmth through her entire body.

"Rose." He breathed her name like a touchstone - a means of coaxing himself away from the oblivion that nearly consumed him moments ago.

She nodded her head in reply, reaching out to frame the side of his face with her free hand. A smile tugged on her lips, whose trembling kept it from full fruition. The Doctor's eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment, clearly trying to relax before taking in his new surroundings.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice faint with the remnants of shock. "How did I get here?" He frowned slightly. "I was in the TARDIS. There was singing... The Ood were were singing - for me -"

The Doctor turned to look Rose dead in the eye: "But I was regenerating!" he breathed. "I remember it now, feeling myself change... But- how am I here?" He paused. "What brought me here?"

"Doctor," Jack interjected. "There's a lot to explain, and it'd be best for all of us if we could do it sitting down." He turned to Rose: "Any chance we could get a room somewhere close by?"

She nodded and turned back to face the cannon bay, reluctant to lose hold of the Doctor's hand. "Mum!" she shouted.

There was a brief sound of approaching footsteps, and Jackie appeared. "What is it, sweetheart? Just got off the phone with your father - he's on his way."

"Thanks, Mum," Rose responded. "D'you mind takin' the car with Dad? I'm goin' to walk Jack and the Doctor to my place. We got a lot to talk about." _And I couldn't bear taking him to Mum and Dad's,_ she admitted inwardly. _It's too soon, and too much like a betrayal._

Jackie nodded in understanding, tugging her jacket shut against the chill night air. "Keep an eye on 'em, Captain," she admonished. "Lord knows what they'll get up to! Could end up on Mars by the mornin', and I won't have him spiritin' my daughter away so soon."

"Oi!" the Doctor interjected, while Jack barked a short laugh and saluted Jackie. "I haven't got a TARDIS for the spiriting to begin with," he shot back, then swallowed hard at his own words. "At any rate, Mars isn't exactly on my list of places to visit," he finished quietly, suddenly fascinated with a pebble between his feet.

Jackie sniffed and turned back to the cannon bay, bidding them a final "'night!" over her shoulder.  
Rose mouthed a "thank you" to her mother, then turned back to the Doctor: "How are you feelin'? Think we'll manage a trip to my flat? It's just 'round the block."

"He'll manage," Jack broke in, grinning widely at the Doctor. "We're not turning down a trip to your place for hell or high water, are we, Doc?"

"Well," the Doctor responded with a shrug of his shoulder, "I'm hardly in a condition to argue. Lead on, Rose."

With Jack and Rose supporting him on either side, the Doctor rolled his eyes skyward. "Lead on, Rose," he repeated softly. "Didn't think I'd be saying that anytime soon. Well, I say anytime soon, I mean anytime _ever_. How did I end up here, Rose?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Now now," he reproached. "Let's give credit where credit's due. Being the one who got you here and all-"

"Jack," Rose interrupted with a slight shake of her head. "It can wait, yeah? Let's get the Doctor settled, and then it'll be story time." She lifted the Doctor's right arm and pulled it around her shoulder. He grunted, but didn't protest - reason alone to get him some proper rest. The Doctor was ever the one to insist upon walking on his own two feet.

As they headed away from the parking lot, Rose noted that the snow - the very same flakes that battered her little search party at Avebury - had now dwindled to tiny wisps. She closed her eyes briefly and thought back to events from earlier in the day:

Gwyneth - so very like her long-lost friend from Dickens' Cardiff - wheeling her chair frantically backward until it crashed into a wall:

_'I see the storm in the heart of the sun,'_she had whispered.

_"a wolf howling in the eye of a tempest; a sea of gold ..._

"...Time as a puzzle, its pieces broken and scattered..."

" a severed hand - a man inside a cage, ancient and forever... "

Rose clenched her hand against the flood of memory, before she had the time to realize that the Doctor's fingers will still twined in hers.

"Everything alright, Rose?" he asked, concern visible beyond his exhausted expression.

She took a quick breath. "Fine," she told him with a false smile. Rose tilted her chin upward and used the fall of snow as an excuse to blink away her recent past. Her gaze lifted to the windows of her own flat, and realized with a start that they had reached their destination.

Rounding a final corner, Rose pointed to the top of a Tudor-style building. Jack and the Doctor blinked away the wispy flakes of snow, following the direction of her finger to a peaked roof.

"'S my flat," she announced, fishing into her pocket until she pulled out a bulky set of keys.

"My Pops always told me that you shouldn't carry more than three keys," Jack advised. Rose picked out a shiny piece of metal and twisted it in the lock, opening the metal door for her friends.

"Said each key was a responsibility," Jack continued as they made their way up a set of rickety wooden stairs. Rose walked ahead, and Jack supported the Doctor behind her. The corridor was too narrow for three abreast.

"'No one should have more than three at once,' he'd tell me," Jack went on, their footsteps creaking as they filed up a second flight. "'Else they'll put a hole in your pocket and your sanity.' I should have listened to him," he sighed.

They had arrived at a narrow wooden door, the number "21" nailed in with brass numerals. "Charming bedtime story, Jack," said the Doctor. "Shame you can't quit TORCHWOOD and join a children's program."

Jack looked levelly at the Doctor. "Funny. Don't I remember you saying something about inspiring the telly-tubbies-"

"Pardon the interruption, boys," Rose cut him off with a yawn, "but it can wait. I won't have you two bickering while I'm tryin' to sleep. Clear?"

The Doctor managed a somewhat contrite nod, but Jack only smirked.

"Jack?" Rose repeated. She raised an eyebrow, tongue clearly in her cheek.

Jack's smirk widened into an all-out dimpled grin. "All due respect, ma'am," he responded with a light salute.

Rose rolled her eyes, then inserted a different key into the lock. With a satisfying snick, she led them into a room nearly as unfamiliar to herself as it was to her companions.

The floor was covered with dull, brown carpet. A small kitchenette stood before them, equipped with a small gas stove and counter/bar which served to divide the cooking area with the den. Rose took off her shoes and tossed her keys onto the counter. She turned to the men, shrugging her jacket off:

"You two gonna come in, or rather sleep on the kitchen vinyl? 's up to you," she told them with feigned nonchalance.

Jack looked at the Doctor, who nodded and took his arm from Jack's shoulder. He pressed his right hand against the wall, using it to steady his balance as he came to stand by Rose. Jack kept close behind him, ready to catch him if he wobbled or fell. Rose pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her smile. Jack and the Doctor. However they may pretend to gripe, she knew that they cared deeply for one another. It was a heartening sight, and she took strength from it.

As the two men made their way to her side, Rose tried to imagine their first impression of her "home." A red/green/blue tartan sofa-bed was tucked against the far wall, opposite the bar/counter. Although its cover fabric tended to itch, the mattress folded out nicely and served as a comfortable bed. Her desk and computer stood opposite the sofa, just beneath the counter. Two armchairs, with the same tartan pattern as the couch, were tucked into the remaining corners. The desk, sofa-bed and armchairs - along with a small coffee table - made up the den.

Her flat was impeccably neat. Not that she was a particularly tidy person, but one had to occupy a space in order to dirty it. Rose was too busy with her job to be bothered.

She reached out and took the Doctor's hand. His hair was spikier, his face thinner - not unlike hers, she realized. And his eyes looked _so_tired. She gently tugged his arm, and he allowed himself to be led to her couch. His watched her for a moment, jaw twitching slightly, before looking back at Jack. The Doctor inhaled slowly through his nose, closed his eyes briefly, then eased himself onto the sofa. He rested his hands on his thighs, clenching them into fists when they began to tremble.

Jack strode into the den and sat himself in Rose's desk chair before she could protest. Which left her with the sofa, beside the Doctor - and a good thing, at that! Right.

_- His lips brushed gently against hers, his breath hot against her mouth as he whispered, "And I love you, Rose" - _

She involuntarily shuddered. "I'll just get us some drinks, shall I?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from sounding frantic and forcing a smile onto her lips. "Jack, what would you like? I've got -" Rose hurried to place the counter/bar between herself and the two men, and hastily opened the refrigerator.

"Let's see, I've got beer and..." she puffed up her cheeks and blew out the air between her lips. "Beer and water, looks like." She grabbed three cans of beer and placed them on the counter, then rooted through her cabinets until she found a pitcher and three cups. She filled the pitcher with water, tucked the stacked cups into one arm and scooped the beer cans into another, then bent down to set everything haphazardly onto the coffee table.

"Jack," she announced, "I hereby present you with the trashiest beer this universe has to offer." He grinned and snapped the can open, promptly sending a geyser of beery foam into the air and onto the Doctor's trousers.

"OoOI-yah!" the Doctor exclaimed, smoothing a hand over the spill, then bringing his fingers toward his nose. He sniffed at the liquid, screwed up his face and - as though already regretting his decision - tasted the beer. He snorted derisively and made sputtering noises, then quickly began rubbing his tongue against his sleeve, as though to dislodge the foul taste.

Rose quickly poured some water into a cup and handed it to the Doctor, who gratefully took the liquid and chugged it in one go. Jack locked eyes with Rose, who began to smile. The quirk of her lips reflected themselves on Jack's face, whose cheeks began to dimple, which caused Rose to turn bright red with the effort to keep from laughing. Then her lips began to quiver, and she finally gave way to a rich guffaw, nearly in sync with Jack's own hoot of laughter.

"Rose!" the Doctor tried to break in, all righteous indignation amid their hysteria, "Rose, I could use a towel-"

"I could think of some more creative ways to clean you up, Doc," Jack chuckled with a flirtatious grin, and sent Rose into another lapse of giggles.

"Why I even bother," the Doctor sighed dramatically, then folded his arms across his chest in resignation. Still, Rose couldn't help but notice faint smile lines crinkling up against his eyes. She hauled herself to her feet and fetched a dishtowel from the kitchenette, tossing it to the Doctor, who snatched it from the air and began to rub vigorously at his stained trousers.

"Sure you don't want any help with that?" Jack asked suggestively. The Doctor shot him a look before continuing with his handiwork.

Feeling less tense from Jack's merciful beer spill, Rose strode confidently into the den and sat down beside the Doctor. She took a can of beer from the coffee table, trying to ignore her proximity to the figure who had haunted her dreams these past few years...

_No,_ she admonished herself. _Not now. I can't afford to cramp up again. _She snapped open the cheap beer can and, judging it safe for consumption, handed it to the Doctor.

He looked up from his task, first at her, then at what she proffered. His eyes widened and he began to shake his head: "No, no no no, really, I'm fine," he insisted with a forced chuckle, "there's really no need..." His voice trailed off, his eyes lowering to follow her hand as she took his fingers and closed them around the freshly opened can. The Doctor continued to look on as she opened her own container of disgustingly cheap alcohol, and bumped it against his.

"Cheers," she said, biting her lip with a smile and daring him with her eyes, then raising the can to her lips. Oh, but this felt like the good old days! Egging him on until he did something utterly ridiculous and probably stupid, but worth it for the shared experience. They both knew that he could never resist a dare.

The Doctor's dark eyes smiled down into hers with a secret, mysterious expression that only he could possibly manage. It meant risk and excitement and adventure and wildness and - somewhere amid the jumbled rush of feelings-

_Desire. _

And what sort of desire? A desire for what? Therein lay the rub, because though they might have yet to grasp its meaning, the feeling - once ignited - would linger between them until they fairly smoldered.

"Cheers," he repeated softly, and pressed the opening of the can against his lips, tilting his head backwards with each progressive swallow. Four seconds (and several bobs of the adam's apple) later, the Doctor pressed his empty aluminum container onto the coffee table with a solid clink.

"Seriously," Rose stated, shaking her head in exasperation. "You just -" she swallowed convulsively, "just drank that entire can."

"Yup," he responded, punctuating the "p" with a loud belch. His eyebrows rose, and he burped several more times before continuing: "Rancid stuff, don't know why you drink it. This is 21st century England, home of Guinness and warm lagers. You, Rose Tyler, are an insult to Queen and country." He sniffed, then re-folded his arms across his chest.

Jack let out a long whistle. "You two've been holding out on me," he reproached, leaning back on the desk chair with his hands folded behind his head. "If I'd known drinking cheap beer could be quite so provocative, I'd have started going to dive bars long ago."

"Anyway," the Doctor interjected firmly, "you two have a story to tell." He looked at Rose and Jack in turn, then continued: "Because I'm not supposed to be here. This isn't my universe."


	2. Chapter 2: My Angry Twin

Hello again! Here's the second installment - I'm going to try and make these on a weekly basis. Again, all my writing will be devoted to this story. Please please please review! It's my sustenance in this dry and brittle land of fan fiction . . . If you like what you see, please visit my website at .com . Fan art is now being solicited! If you like the story, please let me know if you'd like to join in. I'd love to post your art or music on my site!

**Chapter 2: My Angry Twin**

_"Roll away your stone, I'll roll away mine,_

_Together we will see what we will find,_

_Don't leave me alone at this time,_

_For I'm afraid of what I will discover inside."_

-Mumford and Sons, "Roll Away Your Stone"

ROSE AND JACK caught each other's eye from opposing sides of the coffee table. After a moment's pregnant pause, the Doctor pressed them once more:

"Where is the TARDIS?" he demanded, alternating his stare between Jack and Rose. "And what happened to the metacrisis Doctor? Where does he fit into all this?" His jaw firmed at their continued silence. "Will someone _please _tell me _why _and _how _I'm here?" This final remark was punctuated by the Doctor's fist meeting with the coffee table, jostling glasses and beer cans with its force. Hastily retracting his balled fists to his lap, he shut his mouth with a faint _click_ of his teeth, eyes darting between Rose and Jack with growing unease.

Finally, the desk chair creaked as Jack leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, fingers interlaced between his knees.

"The TARDIS isn't here, Doctor. Not in this universe," he answered gently. The Doctor directed his stare at his own clenched hands, and Jack took his silence as a cue to continue.

"There was something wrong with him. The Meta-Doctor, I mean," Jack explained carefully. "His physical make-up wasn't built for the mind of a Time Lord-"

"His name was Fred," Rose interrupted, her eyes trained on the coffee table. "That's the name he took." She licked her lips. "After Wilfred, Donna's Dad." Sensing the growing tension beside her, Rose forced herself to look at the Doctor.

His eyes were clouded, a far-off expression on his face. "A good name," he muttered, his knuckles going white. "I hope he was worthy of it." The Doctor abruptly brought his eyes to Jack: "What happened to him?"

"He's on the TARDIS," Jack replied gently.

The Doctor opened his mouth but Jack rode over him: "As I was saying, his body couldn't cope, so we retrieved your DNA from the progenitor on Messaline to make a clone. With the help of some nanogenes that I happened to have on my person, we copied your physiology into the - into _Fred's_ body," he hastily substituted at a look from Rose, "The body which was incomplete until he took whatever bits of the vortex he needed into his bloodstream, made readily available from your own active regeneration process."

Jack took a deep breath, looking fairly pleased with his succinct account of yesterday's events. After a hasty evaluation of the room's other occupants, he found himself alone in his assessment.

The Doctor made an attempt to stand, clapped a hand to his forehead and leaned back into the seat cushions. He let his fingers run down his face, dragging against his lower lip as he let out a long sigh.

"It makes sense to go to Messaline for my DNA - I'd have gone back to destroy it if it hadn't been blocked off - but how did you know? How did you even manage the gestational processes?"

"River Song." The words were past her lips before Rose could stop herself, and her breath caught when the Doctor's head whipped around to face her. His eyes widened in realization.

"River," he breathed. "Of course, this has her prints all over." His brow wrinkled in thought. "But you weren't with me when we met." The Doctor suddenly gave a snort. "River Song and Jack Harkness, now _there_'s trouble doubled. How did you two meet?"

"It's along story, Doctor," Rose cut in, and Jack gave her a grateful look. "What matters now is that you're here with us."

"And the other me?" Doctor clenched his fists at his sides. "Off in our home world, Rose, doing my job? He can't handle it."

Rose lowered her brows. "You don't know -"

"_Yes_, Rose, I do know," the Doctor interjected. "He's a mass murderer and barely a week old! He needs something to keep him in needs _you_, that's why I left him here!" He ran a hand through his hair until it stood on end.

"But he's not like you, Doctor," Jack put in. "He started out as human, and I can promise you that it makes a difference. He had a real heart to begin with."

The Doctor opened his mouth in indignation, but clicked it shut when Rose stood up and began to pace.

"Not to mention that he sacrificed a life he wanted to save you!" She pointed a finger at him. "You don't know what it was like for him, knowin' everything he coulda had, only you'd done somethin' wrong enough for the Ood to come through and warn us-"

"The _Ood?_" The Doctor's voice was tinged with disbelief. "There are Ood in this reality as well?"

"No, not really, but one set up a signal that broke through the void." Rose stopped pacing and looked at the Doctor. "We're not done talkin' bout Fred, but we should tell you - they came with a message."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows, the rapid tapping of his foot signaling his impatience.

Rose took a deep breath. "They said you'd lost touch with your humanity, and that you were the dissonance in the song." She frowned in concentration, trying to remember everything the tentacle-faced figure had told them. "And it said that I was the one who told them the message." Rose took in a shaky breath before finishing: "That it came from the Bad Wolf. From me."

The Doctor propped his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands. "Sounds like something an Ood would say," came his muffled reply. "Are you sure there was nothing else?"

Rose closed her eyes and drew deeply on her memories. Abruptly her eyes snapped open. "I almost forgot! Remember the Devil on Krop Tor? Its eyes got all red, an' it said that silence will fall. It's voice was all weird, like there was static interference."

The Doctor slowly drew his hands down his face, reaching up to run fingers through his now-spiky hair.

"Well, Rose. Just like old times, eh?" The side of his mouth quirked up in half a smile.

Rose couldn't bring herself to smile back. The impact of her memories wouldn't allow her any levity. Rather than let the Doctor see her anxiety, she turned her attention to Jack, who had been oddly silent during their exchange.

Jack's head had lolled back against the edge of the counter, his lips slightly agape in the careless stupor of sleep. She finally smiled, and it was a relief. _Leave it to Jack to be completely inappropriate_, she thought.

The Doctor followed her gaze, and got shakily to his feet. Rose grabbed hold of his arm to steady him, but he put a hand on hers and shook his head. She let her hand drop.

"That can't be comfortable," Rose remarked.

"Think we can get him on the couch?" asked the Doctor,

Rose found herself able to give him a cheeky grin. "I can manage it on my own, thanks. I've been liftin."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "Go on, then," he prodded.

She started toward Jack, raising his arm to loop her own around his torso.

"Ten quid says you can't do it," the Doctor muttered in a feigned cough.

Rose looked up from her task, arm still awkwardly wrapped around Jack. "You're on," she agreed. And with an unladylike grunt, Rose lifted Jack to his feet. His head lolled against her shoulder, and he made a small moaning sound.

"Hush now, you big baby," Rose murmured, dragging him the distance to the couch, where she sat both of them down with a springy bounce. Jack moaned louder this time, and she wrinkled her nose.

"Pervert," she chastised, gently laying his torso onto the cushion. She brought his legs up on the opposite end, where his feet dangled over the edge of the couch. Finally, she picked up a throw blanket from one of the chairs and draped it over his prone body.

Rose turned and held her hand open, palm facing up, toward the Doctor. "Ten quid," she prompted.

The Doctor reached into his pockets, pulled out a ball of string and dropped it into Rose's hand. "Ball o' string," he explained to her blank stare. "Much more valuable. Never know when you'll need a ball o' string, handy for sewing and playing with and distracting cats."

"I don't want a ball of string," Rose responded through a stiff smile. "I want my ten quid."

"And I want my TARDIS back. Life's tough, but chin up," he replied with charactaristic nonchalance.

"Do I detect a hint of bitterness?" she asked, a smile still forced upon her face.

"Weeellll," the Doctor rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Let's see, just went through a series of heart-wrenching good-byes after radiation sickness, got sent to my death by the Ood, thought I was a goner until I was whisked away by Captain Jack Harkness, and here I am, knowing that my TARDIS and my universe are at the mercy of my _angry twin._" He locked his eyes on hers with the final two words.

"Know what, Doctor?" Rose took a step closer to him.

"What?" he snapped.

"I think you're jealous," she told him softly. "Because your _angry twin_ gets to be in your house with your favorite toy. Am I right?"

The Doctor reached into his pocket and whipped out his sonic screwdriver. "No, Rose. This is my favorite toy," he brandished the sonic in her face, and Rose scowled at him. "But if you're asking if I'm jealous that he has my TARDIS, then you're right, I am. And I'm jealous that he gets to learn River's secret and I never will."

Rose flinched as if slapped. "You want to know about secrets, Doctor? Your _angry twin_ told me that you're half human."

It was the Doctor's turn to take a step back. His face turned ashen.

"Your Dad was a Time Lord but your Mum was as human as me. When were you gonna' tell me that?" Rose was fire and ice - enraged on the inside, her face a frigid mask.

"It isn't important," he stated defensively.

"Not important!" Rose could hold it in no longer. "Fred told me his secrets. He told me what he was really thinkin' and feelin. He trusted me with his life!"

The Doctor closed the distance between them, leaning down so that his face was inches from hers. Rose did not flinch away, though she could feel the warmth of his jealous breath across her face.

"_I_ trust you with my life, Rose!" His voice was low and intense. "I have countless times. And I'm trusting you now, because as things are I'm just an ordinary man with two hearts and a genetic code that could change the course of human history."

The Doctor paused to take a ragged breath. "I'm here, I'm defenseless, and I don't like it, Rose - I don't like being dependent on you. Everything in my nature wants to help _you_, to protect you and treasure you because you're the most important thing that has ever happened to me."

The Doctor and Rose stood motionless, breathing heavily and staring hard into each other's eyes. He swallowed and moved a hair closer to her. She tilted her chin up the slightest bit, her heartrate picking up speed.

Jack moaned and turned in his sleep.

And the spell was broken. The Doctor cleared his throat and looked down at the floor. Rose turned and glared daggers at Jack, who appeared to be dreaming, his eyes moving restlessly beneath their lids.

"So," Rose stepped away and felt a few degrees cooler. "I got a cot for my birthday a few years ago. Don't suppose you'd let me take it so you could sleep on the bed?"

The Doctor gave a low chuckle, raising his knuckles to graze them playfully against her cheek. "Your chivalry's lost on me, Rose Tyler. I'll take the cot."

She gave him a small smile and headed toward the bedroom. Once her hand was on the door handle, she turned around.

"I think you'll like the view," she told him cryptically. He raised his eyebrows, hands in his pockets, but said nothing. Rose turned the doorknob and gestured for him to go in before her.

The Doctor strode past her and into her room. He looked around, taking a quick inventory of the twin bed with its unmussed covers, a small dresser and a folded cot in the corner. It struck him as sad that Rose had spent much of her time in restless pursuit of him. This room had clearly had few visitors. He made a promise to himself that he would make it up to her.

"Doctor," Rose whispered from behind him. "Look up."

He looked down first, to find her giving him her patented Rose-Tyler-tongue-poking-out smile. His hearts skipped a beat and his breath caught, but he did as she said.

The Doctor's jaw dropped. "You've got a skydome," he breathed.

"Yeah, well, I'd get homesick sometimes" she admitted. Rose stood rooted to the ground, watching as her Doctor gazed up at the stars that had kept her company on so many restless nights. She felt a tear form in the corner of her eye, watching him spin in a silent circle, enthralled at the beauty of the night sky.

"It's beautiful," he finally said, then looked down at her with the first genuine smile she'd seen on his face in years. _On this Doctor's face_, she amended. When he'd first seen her after Jack had rescued him, his smile was uncertain, faltering. This was the Doctor experiencing real joy and glad to share it with her.

It was a step.

"Here, I'll get the cot made up for you," Rose said, turning to retrieve the bulky object from the corner.

"No, I have it," he insisted. "Can't have you spoiling me." He strode past her and began to assemble the cot.

"Fair enough," she agreed, watching as he expertly set the equipment in the correct positions. "I've never used it," Rose admitted. "You'll get to break it in."

He grinned up at her. "Got any extra pillows?"

Rose grabbed one of the many pillows from her bed and tossed it at him. "Will that do?"

The Doctor reclined on the cot. It wasn't very comfortable, but would do in a pinch. He wasn't planning on doing very much sleeping anyway, not with so many unsolved mysteries cartwheeling around his mind.

He placed the pillow behind his head, crossed his ankles (which dangled off the cot) and gazed up at the sky.

Rose took a blanket from her closet and spread it over him. He smiled his thanks and watched openly as she crawled under her own covers, fully clothed. His heart ached for her. How hard it must be, having had to say goodbye to his twin (whom she had clearly bonded with), only to be replaced with the original. The one with secrets. How many had the meta-Doctor revealed?

"Rose," he called softly.

"Yea?" came the muffled reply.

"How close were you and Fred?" he asked bluntly.

She turned toward him and propped herself up on an elbow. "Why d'you ask?"

"Oh, just, you know..." he trailed off. Her face was dark but surrounded by a halo of stars. He stared, losing train of thought. He'd forgotton how it was sometimes difficult to remain focused when Rose was around.

"Doctor?" Rose prompted.

"Nevermind," he remedied. "Goodnight, Rose. Thank you for the cot."

"You're welcome. Enjoy the view," she replied.

"I will," he promised, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

Rose's mind was a whirlwind of loose thoughts. How could she possibly sleep with the Doctor right beside her? She wanted to be happy, relieved - but she'd just lost Fred, her wonderful human who'd told her he loved her.

And yet - he and the Doctor were the same. Fred had said that the Doctor loved her, only he wouldn't say so because he thought it didn't need saying.

How was she to deal with the Ood's warning? And how was she sending messages as the Bad Wolf? What did she need to do to restore the Doctor's humanity? And what was the silence that was going to fall?

The Doctor gazed up at the sky and let his thoughts fly their separate ways, intertwining when ideas fit together and dissolving when they found no purchase.

The stars shone down upon the restless figures, each lost in their own minds.

Neither of them slept.


	3. Chapter 3: Interference

Author's Note: A fair warning to everyone that I'm writing this under the influence of Furoset, a migraine medication. Things could take an interesting turn when the author has tunnel vision - sort of like the time vortex! But as they say, the show must go on. As always, please please review, it keeps me going, you are all my muse. Aside from Rose and the Doctor, of course.

Also: watch out for a cameo for tkross, one of my favorite reviewers (here as Tanya Ross). If you'd like a cameo, let me know! And if any of you talented readers would like to make some fan art, I'd love to post it at my site along with this story. And of course, you will get a cameo!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Never have, never will.**

**Chapter 3: Interference**

_"With infinite complacence people went to and fro over the earth about their little affairs,_

_serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small spinning fragment of solar driftwood _

_which by chance or design man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space. _

_Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, _

_minds that to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, _

_intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, _

_regarded this earth with envious eyes and _

_slowly and surely _

_drew their plans against us." _

_ -"The World of the Worlds," Columbia Broadcasting System_

Rose Tyler's Apartment

2012, February 24th

6:47 AM

ROSE WAS abruptly startled from her sleepless reverie by a shout from the living room. Wondering what the matter could be, she tossed away her covers and slid off the mattress while the Doctor bolted from the cot, leaving a pile of tangled sheets in his wake. Rose barely caught up as he turned the doorknob and strode out of the bedroom.

Captain Jack lay in the same position they had left him the night before, but that was the only similarity to his current condition. His forehead was beaded with sweat, eyebrows furrowed with as he muttered to himself:

"Alice, don't - Steven - _Ianto_," the last came out as a whimper. Jack's head shook back and forth in silent denial.

Rose shared a look with the Doctor, whose hair stood on end like a porcupine's quills.

"Jack," she knelt by his side and whispered into his ear. "Jack, it's alright, you're safe here." Rose reached out to touch him on the shoulder, but Jack's eyes opened and he sat up quickly. He looked frantically around the room, as though trying to identify his surroundings.

The Doctor came to stand by Rose. "You're in Rose's apartment, in the parallel world," he relayed quietly. "Everything alright?"

Jack stared at the Doctor, then at Rose, before settling his gaze on a vague point in the room. "You'd think I'd be used to waking up in strange places by now," he groaned. "Especially when I'm out with you two." He cracked a smile at Rose and wiped the sweat from his brow.

"You sure you're alright?" Rose entreated, leaning forward to inspect his fully dilated eyes. "Want a glass of water?"

"You're a peach," Jack nodded. While Rose went into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, the Doctor sat down on the couch beside Jack. Without warning, he took out his Sonic Screwdriver and began to scan Jack's eyes and ears.

"I'm touched by your concern," Jack said irritably, "but everything's fine, Doc. It was just a nightmare."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "We just traveled through the void. The Howling. The Endless Corridor. Never know what we could have picked up on the way," he began to tinker with the sonic screwdriver. "Best to err on the side of caution, as I always say."

"When have you ever said that?" Rose interrupted, handing a glass of water to Jack.

"Just then," he justified. "And whenever we're dealing with void stuff, I've always been cautious, haven't I, Rose?"

She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"Anyway," the Doctor went on, while his thumb crossed over a silver button. The screwdriver made a harsh popping noise, as in the scratching of a record.

The Doctor's eyebrows rose, and he pressed the silver button once more. There was no sound.

"Odd," he mused. "It's never done that before."

"Maybe I broke it, being a 'fixed point' in time?" Jack suggested.

The Doctor gave him a disgusted look. "Course not, she's seen plenty of those before. I'll grant you they generally don't walk and talk, but they register as what they are and that's that. No," he drew out, "it must have been feedback from your vortex manipulator. I keep telling you that thing shouldn't exist."

Jack's lips curved into a smile. "So it's a 'she' now? The sonic's your new girlfriend? That's a new low, even for you, Doc." Jack's eyes narrowed on the sonic screwdriver. "Although, if we're going to be anatomically correct, it's more 'he' than 'she.'" He waggled his eyebrows. "If you're considering batting for the other side, I'm always game for something new."

The Doctor ignored his antics. "The TARDIS was a 'she,'" he sighed wistfully. "And this," he raised the sonic screwdriver, "is all I have left of her." He paused in reminiscence, staring at nothing in particular. "Sexy thing. I miss her terribly." He inhaled swiftly through his nose and shook himself. "Still, no use dwelling on the past when you haven't got a time machine. What's on the agenda for today, Rose?"

Rose pulled out her cellphone and saw an alert for a text from her father:

CALL IN FROM CARDIFF. SIMULTANEOUS INTERFERENCE ON EVERY CHANNEL. WORLDWIDE BLIP A MINUTE AGO. BRING THE DOCTOR.

She blew her bangs away from her forehead. "Take a look at this," Rose handed the phone to the Doctor.

His eyebrows furrowed. "On every channel? One minute ago." He tapped the cell phone against his chin.

"What's going on?" Jack asked, and the Doctor handed Rose's phone to him.

"Same time your sonic did that weird static thing," Rose breathed, raising her eyes to the Doctor's.

"Could be she was picking up the same signal - or lack thereof," he nodded slowly. "Wonder what could have caused it."

"Care to accompany me to TORCHWOOD?" Rose asked with a slow smile.

The Doctor's hearts skipped a beat, and he turned quickly to face Jack, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the couch. "How about it, then? The old team?" He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Shall we set TORCHWOOD ablaze?"

Captain Jack placed his hand in the Doctor's. "As long as I get to shower first. Can't show up at Rose's new digs smelling like elephant dung."

The Doctor bent over and took a long whiff of Captain Jack. "Yeaah, not a bad idea, that."

"Shower's connected to my bedroom," Rose pointed him in the right direction. "Don't take too long, Dad doesn't like having to wait."

"Yes, ma'am," Jack gave her a mock-salute and headed toward the shower.

Which left Rose and the Doctor on their own.

Searching for something to do, Rose took Jack's water glass into the kitchen and began washing yesterday's dishes. The Doctor followed in her wake.

"You didn't sleep last night, either," he remarked, leaning against the counter and flipping his sonic screwdriver from hand to hand.

Rose sighed. "Too weird," she answered honestly. "I'm still not sure what to think of all this. I mean, you and Jack are both here all a sudden, it's like it was six years ago when we first met."

The Doctor stopped playing with his favorite toy. "Are you upset that it's me here, and not Fred?" he asked quietly.

Rose smiled softly at his use of Fred's name. "No. I'm glad you're here." She was finding it much easier to be honest while facing away from him. "I'm glad Jack's here, too. I've missed you both."

The Doctor resumed his flipping of the screwdriver. "Me too," he responded with an audible smile. "There were times - especially after you first left - that I was completely lost without you. I treated poor Martha terribly."

"Martha Jones?" Rose asked, remembering the brave girl in change of the Osterhagen key.

"Brilliant Martha Jones," he sighed. "She had - feelings - for me. It got awkward, and I couldn't cope with it."

Rose's hands stopped their work. "What did you do?" she asked quietly.

"Oh, she left on her own. I wasn't worthy of her," he admitted. "She knew it, in the end." He paused. "Why am I telling you all of this?"

Rose smiled. "You always liked to talk. I guess I'm a good listener." She placed the last clean glass on the drying rack, and turned to face him.

"I guess you are," he smiled back, tongue resting just behind his teeth. The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver. "What was I saying just before you left? Something about shiver and shake?"

"I'm shake," she grinned at him.

"No, no no, I've got an excellent memory and I specifically recall being shake. _You_ were shiver." The Doctor's eyes danced, and he reached out to grab the ball of string left on the counter last night.

"Gimme that," Rose reached out to snatch the ball from him, but he quickly turned to evade her.

"You didn't want it," he protested. "Too good for my poor, exceptionally handy ol' ball 'o string." The Doctor tossed the ball back and forth between his hands, taunting her by keeping it just out of reach.

"I won it fair and square," she insisted. "Give me my booty, you pirate!" Rose lunged at him and knocked him sprawling into the couch.

"Oi!" The Doctor grabbed her shoulders to propel himself out of the couch and toss her into it at the same time, then sped toward the window, threw up the sash and hurled the ball of string into the sky. He turned to give her his best manic grin, and she stood, ready to hurl nonsense words of rebuke.

"Did someone say something about booty?" Jack sauntered into the room, hair wet but squeaky clean.

"He wouldn't give me my-" Rose began, but the Doctor cut her off:

"She's a thieving magpie!" he insisted. "Wanted the prize only when she saw how much fun it was!"

Jack visibly struggled to keep a straight face, but his dimples formed and he couldn't stop himself from bursting into laughter. "Story of my life," he snorted.

"Is everything innuendo to you, Jack?" The Doctor looked flabbergasted.

"I can't help it, Doc," Jack chocked out between gasps. "It's the way my mind works."

The Doctor ran his fingers through his hair. "Well, you've been that way this long, I suppose it can't be helped."

"I wouldn't change you for the world, Jack," Rose gave him her best smile.

"Thanks, sweetie," he grinned at her, and she felt her cheeks flush.

The Doctor watched the exchange, narrowed his eyes slightly and cleared his throat. "Right, now that Jack's clean - or as clean as he's going to get - let's get down to business."

Rose nodded. "Let's see what that blip was all about."

The TORCHWOOD Institute

2012, February 24th

8:06 AM

THE SKY above was clear as glass while Jack, Rose and the Doctor made their way up the stairs leading to TORCHWOOD's glossy entrance. The Doctor took the lead once they reached the double doors, and opened the way for Jack and Rose before following them inside.

Marble floors gleamed below their feet, and several glass-enclosed exhibits filed along the center of the vast lobby. The Doctor approached a startlingly life-like model of a cyberman. He reached into his pocket to pull out his thick-rimmed black glasses, and lowered his brows to frown at the half-sized model.

Rose's heart lept into her throat. She had walked these halls with Fred only yesterday, and recalled her wish for him to take out those very same brainy specs. It was what her proper Doctor would have done - and here he stood, acting just as she had known he would.

She swallowed against the thickness in her throat, and approached him. His hair was as wild as ever, and his brown trousers and swirly tie were the very same as in her dreams. The Doctor seemed to be everything she remembered him to be - where was this darkness that Fred had warned her of?

"Scary, isn't it?" she prompted him.

"Mm," he made a non-committal sound, turning toward the front of the lobby. "Looks like Jack's making friends already."

Rose followed his gaze to see Jack chatting with a woman at the information desk. Then the puzzle pieces fell into place:

"Oh my God, Doctor, do you remember the girl from TORCHWOOD on our Earth?" she asked, panic rising in her voice.

"You mean the one that looked like the girl we met with Dickens?" he asked. "Why, what is it, Rose?"

"That's her," Rose whispered. "She and Jack worked together. Oh, this must be so hard on him."

"Oh, I don't know," the Doctor rocked back on his heels. "Good old Jack can make the best out of any situation. I'll bet he's just fine. Come on, let's go check up on him."

Rose looked doubtful, but she nodded and began to walk toward Jack and the vague form of Gwyneth. But when she felt the familiar touch of the Doctor's hand at the small of her back, she startled and lost her footing. Before she could fall, the Doctor hastily wrapped his other arm around her torso. Rose placed her hands on his shoulders to regain her balance, inwardly chastising herself for the appearance of helplessness.

"Alright?" he asked, his voice concerned, eyes locked on hers.

"Yeah," she nodded quickly and let go of him. The last thing she wanted was to appear weak. The Doctor let his arms slip from her, but his hand resumed its position at the small of her back as they continued walking.

"We should probably eat something," he said. "It's been a long night."

Rose nodded, but her attention was riveted to the front desk, where Jack against the counter, the image of nonchalance. To her relief, a small red-headed woman sat before them.

"Gwyneth isn't in today?" she asked quickly.

"She's out sick," the red-head replied. "Can I help you?"

"Tanya here was just telling me about yesterday's fiasco," Jack waggled his eyebrows at Rose. "Apparently you made the new girl faint?"

"I'll explain later," Rose said through a forced smile. "Tanya, these are my good friends, Jack and The Doctor."

Tanya's cheeks flushed slightly at the mention of Jack's name. "We've been introduced," she responded coyly. "And you're the Doctor? Doctor who?"

"Just 'the Doctor,'" he responded with a grin. "And your full name?"

"Tanya Ross," she replied coolly. "You really don't have any other name but 'the Doctor'?"

"Oh, that's neither here nor there," the Doctor shrugged. "Anyway, ready to show us around, Rose?"

"Of course, Doctor," Rose nodded with mock-respect. "At your beck and call."

"No need to be like that," Jack whispered into her hear. "Tanya's into me, not him."

Rose rolled her eyes and headed for the stairs, the footsteps of her friends echoing behind her.

"Nice to meet you!" Tanya called after them. Rose heard the squeak of Jack turning on a heel, and guessed the he was giving her a wink of farewell.

"Is there anything to eat around here?" Jack asked. "I'm starving."

Before she could respond, they were met halfway up the stairs by none other than Pete Tyler. "There you are," he admonished. His bald spot shone in the florescence light of the stairwell, and he looked none too pleased. "I sent you that message over an hour ago, and you couldn't have gotten back to me?"

"Sorry, Dad," Rose responded honestly. "Been a bit preoccupied with the company."

Pete took in Jack's cocky grin and the Doctor's spaced-out hairstyle, and nodded reluctantly. "I understand. But this thing is something of a sensation, the media are having a field day."

"The blip, you mean?" The Doctor prompted, and Pete turned to give him a scathing look.

"No, the abominable snowman," he replied sarcastically. "Of course the blip! Across the country, on every channel, the same sound for precisely the same amount of time."

"Don't get cheeky about the abominable snowman," the Doctor warned. "I've met him, he's not to be taken lightly."

Jack shook his head. "Just like his daughter," he muttered to the Doctor. "Any chance at getting some grub before we tackle this blip thing?"

Pete tossed a few coins at Jack. "Go find a vending machine." Jack squawked indignantly, but scrambled down the stairs to fetch the bouncing bits of metal.

"Would you be a gem and get me some jelly babies, Jack?" The Doctor entreated, already pacing up the stairs behind Rose and Pete.

"And those dried chips for me, Jack," Rose called down.

"Your wish is my command!" Jack called after their echoing footsteps. And muttering something about the trouble in being a third wheel, he exited the stairwell in search of food.


	4. Chapter 4: Silence Will Fall

Author's Note: A bunch of references in this chapter, namely from the Doctor Who audio program, "Dead Air." "Stuff you Missed in History Class" had a podcast that inspired the ghost bit - can't say more, or spoilers! As always, please review, let me know what you think. This plot has been cooking for over a year! So please review, it's my food, my sustenance. And let me know if you have fan art or want a cameo in this story. I'll post it in the story, or on my website at livejournal.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who doesn't belong to me. Q.Q

**Chapter Four: Silence Will Fall**

_"You told me that I would find a hole,  
Within the fragile substance of my soul  
And I have filled this void with things unreal,  
And all the while my character it steals."_

_-"Roll Away Your Stone," Mumford and Sons_

TORCHWOOD, Cardiff

2012, February 24th

8:21 AM

JACK, ROSE, the Doctor and Pete had congregated in a cluttered fifth-floor laboratory. A large glass screen divided the room neatly in half, lit with the blue outline of a planetary map. Major cities shone red across the grid, connected by dotted lines to form a haphazard web.

The Doctor raised a bag of jelly babies to his mouth and ripped it open with his teeth. Barely able to contain his enthusiasm, he reached in to toss a few colored beans between his lips.

"So," he said around a mouthful of candy. "This blip. What can you tell us about it?"

"It happened at 7:13 AM this morning all across the world-" Pete began, but the Doctor cut in:

"Right, got that. Any idea where it came from?"

Rose shot the Doctor an irritated look, and Jack glanced bemusedly between the two. Pete took a deep breath to calm himself.

"We've attempted to triangulate the static signature, but it doesn't appear to be coming from anywhere in particular." Pete traced his finger along the dotted line. "As for the signal itself, it's being investigated by intelligence in every major city."

"Can you play us a recording of the original transmission?" Jack asked, crossing his arms and staring at the glass.

"What makes you think it's a transmission?" the Doctor countered. "For all we know, it could have been a solar flare. Mind you," he added, popping another jelly belly into his mouth, "solar flares don't tend to hit an entire planet simultaneously. Dark side of the Earth - would take a bit to travel. Can you play us a recording?"

Jack elbowed Rose, who stood leaning against the doorway, and they shared a pained look.

"Of course, Doctor," Pete answered through gritted teeth, then turned to a keyboard and began to type. All was silent for a brief moment, aside from the Doctor's loud chewing noises. Then:

"Sounds like a giant scratched record," Rose observed, frowning as she slowly lowered her hands from her ears.

The Doctor opened his mouth and said something unintelligable, and Rose stepped forward to slap him on the arm.

"Wha'? he complained, rubbing the place where she'd hit him.

"You're bein' rude," Rose scolded. "Years away from me and this is how you end up? Can't let you out o' my sight."

The Doctor gave her an injured look, but swallowed before continuing: "As I was saying," he stated with dignity, "it could be some sort of temporal interference. I'm with you now, Jack - it did sound like a transmission. Sorry, but can you play it again?"

Jack and Rose covered their ears while the Doctor whipped out his sonic. Pete turned to the keyboard once more, and again came:

"Funny sort of reading," the Doctor mused aloud, donning his brainy specs and pushing them down his nose. "It's registering something, but I can't tell what it is." He smacked the sonic against his palm a few times, then held it up to his eyes. "Must be malfunctioning," he sighed. "Too much distance from the TARDIS, probably."

"What's it telling you, Doctor?" Jack stepped in for a better view, and Rose followed behind.

"Makes no sense." The Doctor handed the screwdriver to Jack, who held it closer for inspection. "It's like it's - it's registering as a prerecorded file. The sonic doesn't do files. It analyses and percolates and emits frequencies and opens doors, but file storage? Doesn't have the programming."

Jack handed the screwdriver back to the Doctor, who began to pace the length of the room. "Think, think, think." He ran a hand through his hair, tapping the sonic screwdriver against his mouth. "What's it trying to tell us? A blip heard round the world, which indicates that the signal's spread out, has to be, but where's it coming from? And how could I have recorded it to begin with?"

"I love this bit," Jack murmered to Rose, who smiled back at him.

"Unless-! OH!" The Doctor spun to face them. "I _am_ getting slow in my old age! The signal must have come from my sonic. It was coming from _me_!" He stared upward and slapped a palm into his forehead. "Something was recorded on the other side, some clever little thing that snuck its way into my sonic screwdriver and rode it into this world." He paused, cocking his head to the side. "But why?"

Jack, Rose and Pete stood stock-still as the Doctor took a deep breath.

"And now that it's out, it's spreading the word. All that noise, all around the world." He was speaking slower now, clearly making use of his powers of deduction. "Why? Why make sure it was noticed?" The Doctor frowned at Rose. "Rose, are there any new superpowers in this reality?"

She shook her head slowly. "None that I can think of."

"Except for you, of course, Doctor," Jack added.

The Doctor raised his eyes to the map of glass, realization dawning. "Except for me," he repeated quietly.

"Doctor, the only thing that could store itself on a sonic screwdriver would have to be made of sound," Jack said. "Am I right?"

"Made of sound," the Doctor agreed. Then he turned to lock eyes with Rose: "Or silence."

Her eyes widened. "'Silence will fall,'" Rose quoted softly. "It's what the Ood said to me an' Fred, out in the snow."

"You saw an Ood while it was snowing?" The Doctor frowned.

"Yeah," she answered warily. "Does it matter?"

The Doctor took a deep breath and puffed out his cheeks. "Probably not, just realities bleeding into one another a bit. We're in Cardiff, nothing to get too worked up over." He paused. "Silence will fall. And the Ood was the one who told you that Jack would bring me here?"

"It said you'd end up in this reality, yeah," Rose replied. "What's goin' on, Doctor? Do you what that sound is?"

He sighed. "I've got an idea. A terrible idea, and I hope I'm wrong, but I'm brilliant so the odds are against us." The Doctor stared at his sonic.

"Well? What is it?" Pete demanded impatiently.

"A weapon. A very, very, _very_ old weapon." He cocked his head to the side. "Wel-ll, not really a weapon anymore, so much as an amalgamation of digested species coexisting as a predatory alien hive."

"Here's hoping you've lost some brain cells in the past hour," Rose asked breathlessly. The Doctor raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"This weapon," Jack chimed in. "Did it have a name?"

The Doctor swallowed. "They called it the Hush."

"They?" Rose asked. The Doctor remained silent, staring at the many cities in red.

"Doctor, you said _they_ called it the Hush," she insisted. "Who were they?"

The Doctor let out a long sigh. "My clever Rose, always asking the right questions." He finally turned away from the map to smile sadly at her. "The Time Lords named it the Hush. It was a Time Lord weapon, meant to destroy the Daleks. A remnant of the Time War."

Rose's heart lifted at the Doctor's praise, but plummeted when he continued his explanation.

"The Time Lords?" Jack demanded. "But their weapons perished! How could you possibly-"

"Not this one," the Doctor cut in. "Like the Daleks it was meant to destroy, the Hush was clever. I traced a stray bit of Hush heading toward Earth a few months ago. Found it on a pirate radio station back in the sixties." His face grew even more somber. "It devoured the entire crew. Almost did me in, but I fed it into a cassette and left it to rot."

"And you did that using the sonic screwdriver?" Jack asked. The Doctor nodded silently.

"This Hush," Rose began. "What exactly does it do?"

"Now hang on a moment," Pete cut in before the Doctor could reply. "We aren't even sure that this was your Hush. No offense, Doctor, but you haven't exactly shown us any proof."

The Doctor strode slowly toward the map, reached up and traced a finger along the outline of New York City. "Can you place a call to New York?" he asked.

"Yes," Pete replied cautiously. "Why?"

"Because if I'm right, then I can prove it." The Doctor faced Rose again. "You asked what the Hush does? It eats sound. Anything that makes noise, the Hush will seek it out and consume it until there's nothing left but great, gaping silence."

"But we can stop it, yeah?" she asked, trying to show her fear.

"We've got New York on the line," Pete broke in. "What should I ask them?"

"Ask if any of their cable, radio or internet services have stopped working," said the Doctor.

They waited while Pete relayed the question, and felt their hopes diminish when his face went pale.

"They've lost all their leading networks," Pete told them as he hung up the phone. "CBS, NBC, ABC - all down."

The Doctor closed his eyes briefly. "There's your proof, Pete." Pete nodded silently and moved to stand by his daughter, who tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"So how do we stop it?" Jack asked the obvious question.

The Doctor widened his eyes and leaned against the wall, slowly lowering himself to the ground. "I haven't got a TARDIS. It could be anywhere, everywhere, all around us." He sighed, pressing his palms into his tired eyes. "I haven't the faintest idea."

Rose broke away from her father, coming to kneel before the Doctor. "But you've done without a TARDIS before. Remember, on that planet with the black hole? All the odds were against us, but we beat it, Doctor." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't give up now, not when we've made it this far."

He raised his head slowly, and Rose nearly flinched at the visible pain in his eyes. They were red-rimmed and shadowed, filled with the ghosts of memories that she had no part in.

Rose placed her other hand on his opposite shoulder and squeezed. "Look at me, Doctor," she told him. He kept his gaze level with her nose, but she placed a finger under his chin and lifted it until he couldn't avoid eye contact.

"See that?" she asked, and he tightened his lips. "That's trust. You're not alone, Doctor. Not anymore. I've learned a lot while you been gone, and I'm gonna help. Only you've got to trust me." Rose breathed in through her nose, trying to keep herself from tearing up at the vulnerability in his expression.

"Because I'm not goin' anywhere," she told him around a lump in her throat. "You may not have your TARDIS, but you've got me. An' that counts for somethin', yeah?"

The Doctor's lower lip trembled slightly, but his dimples formed and lifted into the second genuine smile she'd since his arrival. His deep brown eyes locked onto hers, and an expression of wonder lit his weary face.

"Yeah," he agreed softly. "It does."

Jack watched Rose kneeling before the Doctor and felt his own eyes begin to mist over. He had his own demons to contend with, but he was alone in the fight. Jack blinked fiercely against the sting of tears, and cleared his throat:

"Doctor, how did the Time Lords get rid of the Hush when its job was over?" Jack was reluctant to break their moment, but time was of the essence.

The Doctor held a hand out to Rose, and hauled both of them to their feet. He took strength from one last look at her brave face, then reluctantly broke eye contact and turned to face Jack.

"It was programmed to disintigrate once its quarry was eliminated. By all rights, the Hush should be a thing of the distant past." He looked at the map once more. "But one remnant was knocked off course, and it ate everything in its path. It learned from the creatures it devoured, took on elements of their behavior and assimilated everything they knew." He swallowed. "Remember the Krillitanes, Rose?"

She nodded. The bat-like species had nearly taken over the world using schoolchildren. It was her first encounter with Sarah-Jane Smith and K-9, and where she'd made up her mind to never let the Doctor leave her behind.

"The Hush was invented by the Time Lords, so it's far more brilliant than the Krillitanes." He sighed. "The only thing that could contain them is Time Lord technology. No matter how far they've strayed from their original code, that Gallifreyan gene would still be lying dormant."

"Then we're in luck," Pete told them with a grin. "We've got a TARDIS sitting in the same room as the dimension cannon."

The Doctor shook his head. "No good," he said. "If the Hush is spread across the world, then it's numbers are vast. It's been busy while we've been playing catch-up."

"You mean it can reproduce?" Jack asked worriedly.

"Everything in its way becomes part of the army, takes on the same form." The Doctor ran a hand through his hair, leaving it in spikes. "We'd need the pluron particles that lie in the heart of a living TARDIS."

"But there might still be some life in the one downstairs," Rose insisted. "We gave Fred a bit of TARDIS coral, and it helped him stay alive."

The Doctor stared, dumbstruck, at Rose.

"Take me to her?" he asked in tones of quiet hope. .

Rose grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the door, Jack and Pete following quickly in their wake.

The Dimension Cannon

TORCHWOOD, Cardiff

8:52 AM

THE DOCTOR stood rivited, hands clenching at his sides at the sight of his beloved TARDIS. Wires and tubing stretched away from its open door, feeding into the machinery that made up the Dimension Cannon.

"This is what you built," he breathed. "Rose Tyler, you are _brilliant_. Flitting from reality to reality, protecting the universe from harm, defender of the earth - of each and every earth."

"Tryin' to find _you_," she emphasized. "We couldn't have stopped the stars goin' out without you, Doctor."

Jack and Pete exchanged a glance, silently resolving to keep quiet while the two finally had their chance to talk.

"Quite right, too," he smiled down at her, and Rose's felt a tingling in her fingertips. Her cheeks flushed with memory, and she looked away from the Doctor to stride toward the TARDIS.

"Follow me," she ordered in a forced light tone. The real Doctor was such a far cry from the honesty of Fred, but she couldn't let herself lose hope. She needed to break down the walls and get him in touch with his humanity, like the Ood said.

They entered the darkened TARDIS, footsteps clanking noisily along the grated floor. Thickiblack wires drooped where living coral had thrived under the Doctor's care. The turquoise gleam from the center column had gone dark, and bits of console had been broken in order to feed yet more cables into the room beyond.

The Doctor stepped slowly up to the console. His face was a mask of stoicism, a twitch in his jaw the only sign of turbid conflict within. He ran long, tapered fingers along the dead monitor, and took down a yellow post-it from the corner of the screen.

He sighed. "No one ever asked about the post-it," he murmured. "It had Gallifreyan writing on it and no one ever asked, not one of you."

"Why, Doctor? What did it say?" Rose asked, keeping a respectful distance from him.

"It was her name," he replied softly. "The TARDIS," he went on, swallowing hard. "She had a name."

Rose was almost afraid to ask. "What was it?"

He stood still, gazing into the column for a solid minute without replying. Finally, he let out a long breath.

"She's gone," he announced quietly. Then he placed his hands on his face, rubbing them in circles before letting them drop to the console. "Not a spark. I'd feel it."

Rose took a tentative step toward him, and for a wonder, the Doctor turned toward her. She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she told him, and meant every word.

The Doctor made a small, strangled sound and pulled her into his arms, holding her fast against him. She wrapped her arms around his skinny torso, rubbing slow circles into his back.

"I'm so, so sorry, Doctor," she murmured into his shirt. He smelled like clove with a hint of banana, just as he always had. She rubbed her face into the familiar scent, and felt his arms tighten around her. His nose pressed into her neck, and she could tell that he was taking comfort from the very same thing.

"Rose," he breathed into her hair, reaching a hand behind her head to cradle it against his chest. His fingers ran along the blond strands, thumbing it gently behind her ear. Rose continued to rub circles into his back, wanting this moment to last forever, though it was born in grief.

Finally, he exhaled slowly and held her at arm's length. His eyes were red-rimmed once more, and she saw him swallow hard. His jaw twitched while he turned to face the center column, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Rose closed her eyes briefly, savoring the memory of what they'd just shared. She promised herself that it would happen again, and her gaze slid out the door and toward the mirrors.

And in a sudden rapid firing of synapses, Rose had an idea. .

"Doctor," she began slowly. "When I was hoppin' realities, there were sort of - well, sort of parts of realities that overlapped. Like Donna, she kept reappearing, even though I had no idea who she was at first."

Still resting his hands on the console, he turned to face her. "Go on," he said.

"Then there were the stars goin out in all the realities," she continued. "And - and in some realities, there was the TARDIS in one spot, outside the Adipose factory. That happened lots of times, but each time you were dead cause you and Donna hadn't met."

The Doctor looked at her, waiting for her to continue. Rose's mind was racing, trying to connect the dots.

"I think - maybe if we used the Dimension Cannon, we could find one of those TARDISes-"

"No," he interrupted quietly. "That thing rip'll a hole in space and time. We don't need anymore trouble than we already have."

"But if we only did it once -"

"No," the Doctor stated emphatically. "Not even once. We could save the planet, only to lose the fabric of the universe. It isn't happening."

"Right," Rose mumbled. "Was worth a try."

"Still," the Doctor went on. "I think you might be onto something, Rose. The TARDIS might not travel between realities, but it does travel through time. If we could find a TARDIS from the past, we'd have a chance at stopping the Hush."

"Yeah," Rose gave him a bewildered look. "If we had a time machine. But we don't."

The Doctor began to pace around the console. "But what if I landed sometime in the near future?" He hit himself in the forehead. "Think," he told himself. "If I could find a place where the TARDIS landed, where the veil between realities is thin . . ."

"Like in Cardiff, above the rift," Rose prompted.

"Just like that, except that there'd have to be a tangible link between the TARDIS in our home world and the same place in this reality. Some sort of - oh, I don't know, some sort of touchstone," he scrubbed a hand through his messy hair. "When would I have built a connection between an object and the TARDIS? Oh, think, think, _think,_ there had to have been somewhere-"

"Doctor," Rose tried to interrupt, but he rode over her:

"Wait. No." He paused, wheels in his head turning. "YES! When I made a remote for the TARDIS back on the planet of the Ood - oh, but we can't get there!" He sighed. "You humans are so limited, it's amazing you get anything done."

"Hey!" Rose argued. "If we're so deficient, how'd I manage to jump through worlds and find you, then?"

"Well, maybe not that far behind, but not in the ways that matter here and now. Oooh, my head!" He smacked his hand against his forehead, harder this time. "Think! The Hush can only be killed by the plurons inside a living TARDIS, but the TARDIS is in another world, but in that other world the TARDIS travelled and maybe one time - just _one_ time, if it formed a link to a tenuous point in the fabric of reality-" he paused. "Oh, YES!"

"Right," Rose agreed. "The Clockwork Men."

"Versailles," the Doctor breathed, taking a step toward her.

"And the fireplace," she added, giving him a tongue-in-teeth smile.

"With the TARDIS as the link between them," he finished, leaning in and invading her personal space. "There've been stories, haven't there? Sightings of ghosts wandering Petit Trianon?"

Rose held her ground. "There's a book out on it. Read it myself and wonderered if there was a connection."

"The veil is thin at Versailles." He kept his eyes locked on hers. "Arthur and I did that, crashing through the window and disturbing the causal nexus. But you know all about that, now, don't you Rose?"

"Maybe, maybe not," she teased, delighting in their familiar banter. "But it's worth a look, yeah?"

"Fancy a trip to France?" he asked through a brilliant smile. The game was afoot, and they gloried in it.

"Only if you don't leave me for the king's concubine," she responded, crossing her arms and feigning contempt.

"Oi! The queen was fine with the arrangement, and let's face it, Madame du Pompadour had a _lot_ going for her," he intoned admiringly.

Rose stepped back and narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, it's just too bad she'll be enraptured by the past you. Gonna' be stuck with _me_, this go-round." She jabbed her thumb into her chest to emphasize her point.

The Doctor raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, but see if I let Captain Jack come with us," he countered, waggling his eyebrows at her in mock-infatuation.

"Good point," Rose observed. "We should let Jack -"

"Let me do what?" the man himself cut in. His frame filled the doorway, haloed by the dark light of the Dimension Cannon.

"Let you follow the Hush, find out what it's been doing and when it's been doing it. See if you can find a pattern, maybe it has some sort of objective other than devouring everything in range." The Doctor paused. "Are you alright with that, Jack?"

Jack knew he was being left behind, yet again. One couldn't get between the Doctor and his Rose. "I said it a long time ago, Doctor, and I'll say it again. Rose is worth fighting for." He strode into the TARDIS and stopped within inches of the Doctor's face. "And so are you." He kissed him firmly on the lips, then turned to Rose, grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered his face to hers.

Rose nearly fainted at the sudden assault. Jack parted her lips immediately, sucking on her upper lip and tasting every corner of her mouth, swirling his tongue around hers. It felt like the kiss went on forever, thought it could only have been a few seconds.

The Doctor cleared his throat, and Jack pulled away. Rose's lips must have been as swollen the ones smiling at her with self-satisfaction. He reached out and caught her as her knees went limp, then turned to face the Doctor:

"I'm that good," he told him with a wink and a wide grin. He let go of Rose and spun on a heel, feeling much better now that he'd thoroughly snogged Rose Tyler. Especially since the Doctor had to watch. Let him chew on that!

"Right," the Doctor said firmly, grabbing Rose by the hand and hauling her out of the deceased TARDIS. "Let's find a flight to France."

Rose let herself be tugged along, cheeks flushed and heart beating like a hummingbird's wings. She gave thanks to whatever powers had brought the three of them back together, and caught up to run by the Doctor's side.

"Allons-y!" he cried, and together they ran, away from dark things of the past and into the bright, brilliant future.


	5. Chapter 5: A Familiar Face

Author's Note: Wow, it's been months! Months of crazy schoolwork changes (hurricane knocked everything off), finals, drama with my puppies, work, and trying to get my book edited. But it's shipping off to agents in the first week of January! Not that it's any excuse for my absence. Here is the next chapter, I'm sorry it took so long, but reviews help, they really, really do. I need the inspiration.

_"But do not ask the price I paid,_

_I must live with my quiet rage,_

_Tame the ghosts in my head,_

_That run wild and wish me dead. "_

_- from "Lover's Eyes," by Mumford and Sons _

TORCHWOOD

Cardiff, Wales

8:59 AM

JACK STRODE confidently out of the TARDIS before he could change his mind. The Doctor and Rose needed time to clear away their emotional baggage, and would not be able to with him dogging their heels. He ignored the sharp pang of loss, and sealed it away behind one of the secret doors within himself that grew more numerous each passing day.

"I'll need access to every bit of unexpected data since the Doctor arrived," Jack ordered when he was in Pete's range of hearing. "Give me feeds from CCTV, the BBC, whatever technology your TORCHWOOD's been able to piece together. And I need it within the next fifteen minutes."

Pete's forehead wrinkled. "You can't be serious. I don't know what you were working with in your world, Mr. Harkness, but we don't have the manpower -"

"Are we standing above the same rift between worlds?" Jack countered.

"Yes, but-"

"And you're using its power as a generator?" Jack folded his arms and spread his feet. He did not have the time to talk logistics.

"Yes," Pete tried to interject, but Jack rode over him:

"Then you won't have any trouble getting the information we need," Jack summed up.

"But you can't mean _every_ unexpected blip," Pete exclaimed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "It would take-"

"You're right," Jack agreed, tapping a finger to his lips. "Get me the expected information as well. Can't be too thorough when we're dealing with Time Lord tech."

Pete's mouth dropped open, but Jack cut in before he could speak: "Better make it ten minutes. Time is of the essence, Pete Tyler! And I don't want to hear another word. You're Rose's Dad, she must have got her talents somewhere, and we both know they weren't from Jackie. Point me in the direction of the elevator?"

Pete clamped his mouth shut, clearly livid, but gestured toward the right side of the room.

"Thanks," Jack grinned and clapped Pete on the shoulder. "Good luck. I'll be upstairs in the map room. Page me if you need me."

He spun toward the elevator (they were "lifts" in the UK, but he couldn't be bothered with the vernacular), and balled his hands into fists while he waited for its arrival. With a soft _ping_, the doors opened.

Jack gritted his jaw to hide any reaction toward the familiar figure in the cabin. She wore a white coat suited to her profession, and horn-rimmed glasses. Aside from these two differences, everything about her was the same.

"Going up?" the woman asked. Her ginger hair hung in thick, straight tresses to the small of her back.

Jack nodded slowly before entering the cabin, and glanced quickly at her name tag to confirm his suspicions.

"Dr. Donna Noble?" Jack held out his hand. She cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips, but shook his proffered hand.

"I suppose you've heard about me, then?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Oh, yes," Jack assured her. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness. Don't suppose you've heard of me, though, have you?" He gave her his best grin.

Dr. Noble's cheeks flushed slightly, and Jack's smile grew wider. "Can't say as I have, Captain. What brings you to TORCHWOOD?"

Jack nodded toward the control panel. "Going up?" he asked.

"4th floor, thanks," she nodded. Jack pressed the circular button for the forth floor.

"I'm here for Pete and Rose Tyler," Jack finally replied.

Dr. Noble's eyebrows rose. "My, my," she intoned. "Must be very important if you're working for Blondie."

Jack chuckled. "You could say that. What about you, Dr. Noble? Any plans for the day?"

"Supposed to be my day off, actually," Dr. Noble sighed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "But that dumbo, Bartho, from Blondie's experimental branch, he got hisself sick from overwork. I'm always tellin' him, Bartho, you're not gettin' any younger, but he never listens to me, does he?"

Jack smiled in commiseration, while his mind worked at top speed. What were the odds that Donna Noble - the Doctor's very best friend - would be called in to work on this day? If he did not know that the universe was random (with the Doctor the sole gaping hole in chaos), he'd have thought they were meant to meet.

". . . and it's somethin' about static happening all over. I said to Terry, I says 'come off it, my telly's static most of the time, it's not exactly the end of the world, is it?'" Dr. Noble bent over with laughter.

Jack shivered.

"What?" she asked breezily, finally cluing into Jack's discontent. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

The soft _ding_ of the elevator saved him. "It's funny you should mention static, Dr. Noble," he said. "I've been called in by Blondie for the same reason. Looks like we're a team, you and I."

Dr. Noble looked up at him through her eyelashes and flushed.

_Oh, this is going to be fun_, Jack thought.

Folkestone, UK

10:06 am

"Shame we couldn't take a helicopter," Rose sighed, buckling herself into a cushy upright seat. "Dad's been takin' flyin' lessons for the past year. Granted it was mostly to distract him from Mum, but he's a fair pilot."

The Doctor slid into the seat beside Rose. "No helping it. The Hush eats sound - and we'd have been lost if it went after the radar." He inhaled quickly through his nose. "No, this is the best course. Point A to point B, and no chance of traffic jams."

A pamphlet lay on the floor below them. "WELCOME TO THE CHANNEL TUNNEL," it proclaimed. The Doctor fetched the pamphlet and began to flip through it.

"Still, when you think about it, it really is miraculous, Rose," he reached into his pocket and slipped his brainy specs onto his nose. "All those years poking at each other with sticks and playing with fire, and here you are, making your way in a high-speed cart under tons and tons of water."

A woman a few seats away from them gave the Doctor an annoyed look. He prattled on, oblivious to her discomfort:

"Carts made of steel, just like they use in coal mills, Rose! Only it's airtight and uses a bit of aluminum to bear the weight of passengers, but the fact remains that we'll be traveling at 300 kilometers per hour for - oh, say two-and-a-half hours - under tons and tons and _tons_ of water. What a statement for the modern age!" He grinned at her, and she had to smile in return.

"Well, if you put it that way," Rose nudged him.

The Doctor folded pamphlet into his coat pocket, and took a look around the cabin. There was an elderly couple in the seats before them, and a mother and child making a din of noise behind their seats.

Two suited men occupied the seats across the aisle.

"When's it going to start, Mummy?" whined the little boy.

"Just as soon as the conductor's decided we're ready to go," his mother consoled him. "Now, where's your DS? Ah, here it is."

There was a small chime as the hand held console powered on. The Doctor turned to Rose and raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Seems that grown-ups will do anything to keep a child from daydreaming nowadays," he murmured.

"I think she's just trying to keep him quiet for the rest of us," Rose confided.

"Mm." He nodded sagely. "And when has 'quiet' ever been any fun?" He raised his eyebrows and winked at her through his glasses, then pulled out his sonic screwdriver and pressed one of its buttons.

The console made a queer high-pitched noise. "Mummy, it's stopped working," the boy complained.

Rose shook her head slowly at the Doctor. "I hope you're going to entertain him, then?" she whispered.

"Nah," the Doctor sniffed while pocketing his sonic. "See what he can do on his own."

Rose sighed. The Doctor was used to being able to step into his TARDIS when situations got ugly. She wondered how he'd react when he could not escape from this particular disaster.

Suddenly the engines roared into life, and the little boy squealed in delight. The Doctor turned to give Rose a knowing look: "See?" he asked. "Now he can enjoy the ride."

Rose rolled her eyes at him. "Sure," she mumbled.

The Doctor settled back into his chair, and the two rode in silence for a while. Rose closed her eyes and tried to picture their last trip to Versailles. Almost immediately, Madame Pompadour - Reinette, as the Doctor lovingly called her - came to the forefront of her thoughts.

_"You and I both know, don't we, Rose, that the Doctor is worth the monsters."_

Rose shuddered.

"Alright, Rose?" the Doctor asked softly. She let her eyes flutter open, and nodded.

"Yeah," she assured him. "Just thinkin'."

"Thinkin' bout what?" The Doctor's glasses were still perched upon his nose, and a book lay in his lap, his finger marking the page.

"About Madame Pompadour," she admitted. Rose was done with lying, even if it was to protect the Doctor's feelings.

The Doctor's head lifted to rest against the back of the seat. "Ah," he said, somewhat awkwardly. "What about her?"

"Just -" Rose paused to gather her thoughts. "She and I were a lot alike. We both knew that we wouldn't be able to travel with you - or meet with you, like she did - without being in danger ourselves."

The Doctor swallowed hard. "I know," he agreed. "I'm sorry."

"But that's just the thing, Doctor," Rose interrupted, and turned her body to face him. "You're always in danger. It's part of who you are, and we wouldn't have changed a thing. Neither of us."

He smiled at her, and thus encouraged, she went on:

"And even here. Even now, without the TARDIS." The Doctor's face fell, and Rose covered his hand with hers. "We're still chasin' danger, cause it's what we do, you an' me. We fight the monsters." Rose looked down at their hands. "So what I'm sayin' is that I don't expect you to become a different person, just because you don't have your time machine. Make sense, Doctor?"

Rose chanced a look at him, and nearly melted at the serious expression on his face. His dark eyes held fast to hers. "It makes sense, Rose. But I may not be the same Doctor after this."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

He rotated his hand beneath hers, so that he could grasp her fingers. "I might change, Rose. It's been nine lifetimes for me that I've been a madman with a box." He tightened his grip on her hand. "And I am no longer that. Just -" The Doctor paused, looked away. "I never thought I'd say this," he half-chuckled. "But," his eyes rose to hers once more, "just be patient with me, please, Rose."

Rose's breath caught. This was indeed a new side to the Doctor. Exposing vulnerabilities? Making confessions? She schooled her features to a simple smile, but her heart galloped within her breast.

And that was then they heard it.

The Doctor spun in his chair to see people's mouths moving, the little boy jumping up and down in the seat behind them. Rose opened her mouth to speak, but the Doctor put his finger on her lips, shaking his head quickly in warning.

Everyone around them was carrying on like normal, but no one made a sound. Rose leaned into whisper into his ear, and in a split-second realization, he knew what the Hush was up to:

It was baiting them for vocal signatures, but in order to pick them up, the pocket of space surrounding their chairs was in a pocket of absolute silence. Or else their voice could be mistaken for the creaking of a chair, the whisper of wool against polyester.

Rose's lips parted and he could just barely feel her breath against his ear. There was only one thing he could do to stop her, but he hesitated for one half of a split-second:

"D-"

The Doctor prayed that he had not been too late. Then he stopped her lips with his.

There it is, folks. The beginning. Fair warning that this story will be rated 'M' by the end. Now, please click that little blue link that says "review," please please, reviews are like the Doctor carrying the Olympic Torch on this cold winter's day!


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